Gossip
by IfOnlyFredWeasleyHadLived
Summary: Just a few short months after the war has ended; and lives are getting back to normal. Then Rita Skeeter sticks her quill in, and unleashes a whole load of gossip that will soon turn into something she, let alone anyone else, never expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys - a new story. Some of you may have read my previous works - for which I thank you. If you haven't, please do check out my profile.**

**I do not own Harry Potter, sadly.**

Hermione was running late. She was meant to have been at The Burrow fifteen minutes ago, but she couldn't find her wand. And without her wand, she could hardly do anything. Sighing, Hermione glanced around her messy flat, hoping she'd be struck by inspiration as to where her wand could possibly be. Frowning, she headed into her bedroom, and shook her duvet out, a last desperate attempt to find it. Nothing. There was no choice but to Floo. Hermione normally didn't like doing it, she preferred Apparating to the front door – it was far politer, she thought, after all, she didn't live at The Burrow. Suddenly she caught sight of something sticking out of the book she was currently reading. Hurrying over to it she flicked the book open and there, in between the pages, lay her wand. Grabbing it and grinning, Hermione pictured The Burrow in her mind and Apparated directly into the middle of the field surrounding The Burrow.

It was a beautiful, clear day and the field was blossoming with wild flowers. Hermione smiled to herself as she heard laughter coming from the direction of the house.

"Hey, Granger!" a cheeky, cheery voice pulled her from her thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

Without turning round, Hermione reprimanded the young man. "Fred, please, do _not_ call me Granger. My name is Hermione. Hermione. That is what my friends call me, not Granger. I've told you that a thousand times, _Weasley_. And as for why I'm here…I'm here to sleep with you and George, of course. We had such fun last time."

Fred gaped, and for once in him life, speech failed him. "Um…OK then. Can't remember a last time…" He trailed off, not entirely sure where this conversation was headed.

Hermione laughed at the uncomfortable expression on his face, and took pity on him. "I'm here for Sunday lunch, Fred, like I am every Sunday."

"Oh, I was going to say…" Fred was enormously relieved. "Not that I find the idea of sleeping with you disgusting, but sharing a girl with George – no. Not to mention the fact that Angie wouldn't be too pleased with him." He winced at how awkward it all sounded.

"It's fine, Fred. I get it – I was just mucking about anyway. Now, I'm starving – I haven't eaten a proper home-cooked meal since last Sunday – I'm the worst cook."

"I'm sure you're not that bad, Hermione. But as you evidently need to eat, let's go."

They headed off through the long grass together, laughing and joking about nothing. Upon reaching The Burrow, Hermione was swept up into a bone-crushing hug by Ginny.

"Hermione! It's been so long!" Ginny squealed.

"I know! How's school?" Ginny was now in her seventh year at Hogwarts, and had come back to The Burrow for Easter break. Hermione missed Hogwarts , but she knew she had made the right decision is not returning and getting on with her life instead.

"School's well, school. It's not the same without you, Harry, Ron and Neville though. At least I've got Luna to chat to." Ginny shrugged, then pulled Hermione's arm. "Anyway, come on! Mum's about to serve lunch; and everyone else is already in there. If we're not quick, all the food will be gone!" With these words Ginny tugged Hermione into The Burrow, Fred following just behind.

Getting to the table, Ginny immediately headed for the seat next to Harry and Ron, leaving Hermione to sit in one of the spare seats beside George. Percy entered from the living room and sat the other side of George, two seats away from Hermione. By the time Fred entered the kitchen, there was only one seat, which he promptly sat in, sandwiching Hermione between him and George, grinning at her as she did so.

"Right. Now everyone's here, please, tuck in." Mrs Weasley said, placing the last dish on the table and seating herself next to Mr Weasley . Everyone immediately hurried to follow her request, and quickly filled their plates up. Fred and Hermione both reached for the bowl of roasted potatoes at the same time, their fingers brushing over each other.

Fred drew his hand back. "Go on, Hermione you have them first. After all, you've not eaten in a week."

Hermione smiled at him. "Thanks, Fred. And I have eaten this week, just not very well."

"Whatever you say, Hermione, whatever you say."

She just rolled her eyes at him, and they both lapsed into silence as they ate.

As soon as the plates had been emptied, all the food eaten, Bill and Fleur stood up, hands clasped together.

"Fleur and I have an announcement for you all," began Bill. Everyone looked towards them in eager anticipation as Bill and Fleur shared a loving smile before turning to address those at the table.

"I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby!" Fleur rested her hand on her stomach, as Bill wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Congratulations!" cried Mrs Weasley. "I'm so happy for you both! My first grand-baby! When are you due?"

"Well, I'm thirteen weeks along, so the baby will be due in September," Fleur smiled.

Fred and George looked at each other and grinned manically.

"We can corrupt them!" they cried simultaneously.

"Oh no, you will not," said Bill, glaring at them threateningly. They just grinned back at him, trying to look innocent but failing miserably.

"Fred, George, will you please behave responsibly just once?" sighed Mrs Weasley.

"We do, Mum," started George.

"But winding up Bill is normally impossible," continued Fred.

"So, we must take advantage of every opportunity!" they finished together.

"Oh, boys, what would we do without you?" smiled Mrs Weasley fondly.

Fred and George both got up and headed over to their mother, giving her a hug.

"You'll never have to find out, Mum."

"Yeah, the war's over and there are no plans for another one just yet."

Mrs Weasley sniffed and pulled the twins closer to her. Ever since the war she'd been more protective of her children than ever, especially the twins, as Fred had nearly died during the Battle of Hogwarts and George had lost an ear.

"Mum," came George's choked voice, "you're strangling us!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, boys!" Mrs Weasley said, and released them at once.

"It's fine, Mum!" they chorused together, before going to sit back down.

"Hey everyone," Ginny started. "How about we all go to the lake for a bit? I mean it's such a nice day."

"Yeah, why not. It'd be good to just muck about," Harry agreed, with Ron nodding as well.

"Hermione, what about you?" asked Ginny.

"I would, but I have nothing to change into, and I'm loathe to transfigure more underwear into swimming stuff."

"You could always try skinny-dipping," Fred suggested gleefully, giving her a cheeky wink.

"Not in a million years, Frederick. Not in a million years. I'm fine with just sitting by the side."

"No you don't, Hermione," Ginny leapt up out of her seat and grabbed Hermione's wrist, pulling her from the table. "You can borrow one of my bikinis."

"But Ginny..." Hermione protested.

"No buts, Hermione Granger," Ginny cut her off. "You're borrowing one of my bikinis and that's that." Ginny had a no nonsense tone, so Hermione resigned herself to being dragged upstairs by the enthusiastic red-head.

Just five minutes later found Hermione standing on the edge of the lake, arms wrapped tight around her skinny figure.

"For God's sake, Ginny. I may as well have taken Fred up on his suggestion of skinny dipping. This is the skimpiest bikini ever, I mean, seriously."

"Stop complaining, Hermione, and come join us!" Ginny laughed, splashing water at the girl on the bank.

Hermione wasn't given a chance to retort, because at that moment two pairs of hands; very male hands, grabbed hold of her, lifting her up. One pair was gripping round her thighs, while the other pair was latched tightly around her waist.

She let out a scream. "Fred! George! Put me down this instant!"

"And why should we?" asked Fred, looking up at her.

"Come now, Fred, if Hermione wants us to put her down, then we should. It would be un-gentlemanly to do otherwise."

"Oh, I suppose you're right George. On the count of three, then?" Fred suggested.

"One," George started.

"Two," Fred continued, shifting his grip in anticipation.

"Three!" they chorused together, before unceremoniously dumping Hermione into the water.

She surfaced, coughing and spluttering. "Prepare for war, twins. Prepare for war!"

The twins glanced at each other before dive-bombing into the water, sending another wave over Hermione's face.

"Ooh, I'm going to get you back for that," Hermione threatened, swimming towards Fred and George and splashing them.

They retaliated and it soon became a full blown water fight, with the three of them laughing hysterically as they soaked each other.

Slowly, the fighting began to lessen and they just took to floating in the water, chatting about nothing. Harry, Ron and Ginny joined them, judging it now to be safe.

"So, how's your shop going?" asked Hermione, curious.

"It's going really well, thanks, Hermione," Fred replied.

"Yeah, now it's the holidays business has really picked up. It's always slower when the kids are at Hogwarts," expanded George.

"Any new products?" Hermione continued to question.

"We're actually working on something new at the moment. It's a potion that can replace a girl's foundation or face cream. She applies it unknowingly, then applies the rest of her make-up. When she looks in the mirror, she'll look absolutely fine. To everyone else, her make-up will look even more than she applied and she'll look ridiculous."

"Isn't that slightly harsh?"

"Not really. It only enhances any make-up she has on. If she doesn't wear that much make-up then it won't be too ridiculous. But if she's the kind of girl who trowels on the make-up usually, then it won't look ridiculous."

"Right...OK then. But, boys, if that potion ever gets its way into my foundation, there will be hell to pay!"

The twins saluted. "Of course, Hermione, of course. We understand absolutely."

Hours later Hermione was still at The Burrow. They'd long since come in from the lake, and now everyone was sprawled in various relaxed positions around the living room. The sky was growing dark as Hermione stretched and yawned.

"I really should be heading home," she said, looking around at her friends.

"Oh no, dear, you must stay the night. I've made up a spare bed in Ginny's room." Mrs Weasley said firmly. "The same goes for you, Harry and Ron. I've made up two beds in Ron's old room. And twins, your old room's made up." It was clear she would brook no argument, so the five of them all nodded their agreement.

Slowly they began to disperse, with Ginny and Hermione heading upstairs first, and the boys following soon after.

Hermione borrowed a pair of pyjamas from Ginny to sleep in, then headed to the bathroom. On the way she bumped into someone, heading back towards their room.

"Oh, sorry, Fred."

"It's alright, Granger, no harm done."

"What have I told you, Fred?"

"Sorry, _Hermione_."

"Better," Hermione squeezed past him and continued to head for the bathroom, pausing as he called her name.

"Hermione?"

She turned around but said nothing, just watched as Fred walked towards her. When they were almost nose to nose, he bent down and whispered in her ear.

"If you fancy visiting me and George tonight, well, the door's open."

Hermione rolled her eyes as a small grin crept over Fred's face.

"In your dreams, Fred, in your dreams."

"In your dreams, too, Granger, in your dreams too!" Fred joked, disappearing into his bedroom before Hermione could reply.

**What did you think? Please tell me, and then maybe go check out my other stories, if you haven't already. It means so much to me when I get emails saying that I have new reviews.**


	2. Chapter 2

**My second chapter! I don't own Harry Potter.**

Stretching out in the camp bed, Hermione yawned. It was lovely not having to rush off to work, but to be able to relax. Not that she'd be able to relax for long, though, she thought grudgingly, as the familiar ache in her bladder started.

Sighing, she got up and padded to the bathroom, avoiding the squeaky floorboard at the top of the stairs. After relieving herself she washed her hands and was heading back to bed when voices from downstairs stopped her. Stopping at the top of the stairs, she listened as three men who seemed to be Fred, George and Mr Weasley spoke in quick, agitated tones.

"I don't get it."

"So, Fred, what happened yesterday that could have led to this?"

"We were just mucking about..." the rest of Fred's voice was drowned out by what seemed like the rustling of newspaper pages.

Curiousity piqued, Hermione headed downstairs and into the kitchen, where the three of them were all sitting round the table.

"What's going on?" she asked. At the sound of her voice, the three men jumped up guiltily and George stuffed something behind his back.

"Nothing's going on, Hermione. Why don't you just go back to bed?"

"Don't baby me, Fred. George, what have you got behind your back?"

"Behind my back? I don't have anything behind my back." George glanced around guiltily.

"George," Hermione said in a measured tone, "don't make me hex you."

"OK, OK, here it is!" he said, handing over _The Daily Prophet_. "What?" he asked defensively in answer to Fred's glare. "It does involve her as well."

Hermione wasn't paying attention to a word of this, however. Her attention was focused solely on the headline in front of her. '_Golden Granger and Weasley Twins In Sordid Love Threesome!_' Her hands tightened round the paper, she sank heavily into the seat that Fred had just vacated. Fred, sensing her distress, swiftly knelt down beside her.

"Hermione? Are you OK?"

"What do you think, Fred? How did they get this?"

"I don't know..." Fred trailed off. Like Hermione, he had known immediately that this was linked to the conversation between them yesterday but, like Hermione, he had no idea how that joke had gotten into the newspaper.

Suddenly Hermione gasped with shock.

"Hermione?" asked Fred anxiously.

She pointed a shaking finger at the name of the article's author. "Why am I not surprised? That must be why...ooh, I'm going to really get her for this!"

"What do you mean? Why aren't you surprised? How are you going to 'get' Skeeter for this?" George asked, kneeling next to his twin.

"Well, if you three have all this under control, then I must get to work. Owl me if there's an issue. And for God's sake, don't let your mother believe a word of this!" Mr Weasley advised before Apparating away.

"So," asked George. "How are we going to handle this?" Both he and Fred looked to Hermione.

She said nothing, just got up and started making a cup of tea.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I can't do anything until I've had a cup of tea. It wakes me up. Add a touch of honey and it becomes a wonderful comfort drink," she added, pouring it into a mug and heading through into the living room, with Fred and George following.

Sitting down on the sofa, Hermione briefly filled them in on Skeeter. "She's an Animagus. She can turn into a beetle at will. That's how she must have heard our conversation, Fred. She was in the field with us. Ooh, I wish I'd stepped on her."

"What was the conversation?" George asked. "I still don't know!"

"When I arrived at The Burrow yesterday, Fred met me and asked me what I was doing here. I joked that I was here to sleep with the two of you. Skeeter must have overheard and decided that it would make a good story."

"OK," George said slowly. "But what are we going to do about it?"

"Well, I'd really like to catch her in the act of spying, then we can be sure that she won't do it again, especially if we turn her over the Ministry."

"Right. But to catch her spying on us again, then we need to..." Fred trailed off, working out what all of this meant.

"Exactly, Fred. We need to have her wanting another story about us. Which means we can't deny this story. But, if we confirm it, she won't have anything to speculate about."

"So we just do nothing? Neither confirm nor deny the article?" George asked.

"If that's alright with you; I can't think of any other way to catch her." Hermione looked at the two men, who glanced at each other before meeting her gaze and nodding.

"We'll do it," Fred spoke for both of them.

"I better go talk to Angie, though," George said, getting up. "If she reads this article and believes it, she'll murder me first and ask questions later. God, I love her!" With these final words he Apparated away, leaving Fred and Hermione alone.

"So..." Fred started.

"Let's just try to protect that this article doesn't exist, Fred. I'm sure it'll make things far less awkward," Hermione suggested, and Fred latched on to it.

"Right then...you've got a couple of days off work, haven't you? How are you planning on spending them?"

"Well, I'm actually back at work tomorrow, yesterday was my first day off. Today I'm probably going to hang around with Ginny, have a catch-up, you know?"

"Yeah. It's scary to think that my baby sister is in her last year at Hogwarts. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was starting at Hogwarts myself and she was begging to come too. We've all grown up so quickly."

"We've had to. Us especially, but our whole generation has had to grow up. It's really hard to remain kids when you're trying to battle the most evil wizard ever to have lived."

"Yeah, you're right. All we can hope for now is that our children will be able to grow up without worry and fear."

"I'm sure they will. Recent memories are far to vivid for anyone to think about repeating them."

Just as Hermione said this, Ron emerged from upstairs. Nodding a good morning at them he headed into the kitchen. Two seconds later they heard an appalled shout and he reappeared brandishing the newspaper.

"What in the name of Merlin is this?" he asked, his outrage at the headline clear.

Fred and Hermione glanced at each other.

"It's not true, Ron," Hermione tried to placate him.

"Then why the hell is it in the newspaper?"

"Look at the name of the journalist, Ronald."

He did so, and he seemed to calm slightly.

"Skeeter... but how did she have the opportunity to make something like this up?"

"Because there's an element of truth in it," said Fred.

"Fred!" Hermione admonished as Ron started to flush tomato red again. "Ignore Fred, Ron. They only element of truth in it is the fact that, when I arrived here yesterday, Fred was there to meet me and we were joking about me being there to sleep with him and George. I had no plan to and I never will have any plans to, we were just mucking about,"

"Right, OK then," said Ron, deflating. "Just make sure Mum understands that, or she'll blow a fuse."

"Will do."

"Right, I'm off. I promised Luna I'd spend the day with her; make the most of her being out of school."

"Have fun!" Hermione called after him, as he headed out the front door.

"Now, that is one pair no one expected," Fred said.

"Tell me about it," Hermione smiled, if a little despondently.

They lapsed into silence for a couple of minutes, then Fred checked his watch and shot up out of his seat.

"Sorry, Hermione, but I've got to go. George has probable gotten distracted by Angelina, so I should go make sure that the shop's opened on time. Will you be OK?"

"I'll be fine, Fred. Go. I'll just pester Ginny until she gets up."

* * *

"This is such a bad idea, Ginny. Everyone's staring at me, all because of that stupid article," Hermione whispered to her friend, staring at the ground of Diagon Alley in an attempt to ignore all the curious, and some contemptuous, glances that were being directed her way.

She couldn't believe that Ginny had been able to persuade her to go to Diagon Alley to go shopping. She had known she would be stared at, but hadn't imagined this. She'd thought she'd be able to cope – after all, she'd been friends with Harry through worse things. But this was completely different – it was she who was being judged, not someone else.

"Right, I think we should go to Wheezes," Ginny decided.

"What? Ginny, no!" Hermione exclaimed, but there could be no deterring her, no matter how much Hermione protested it would be a bad idea.

"I thought you were supposed to be acting natural, as though the article didn't exist?" Ginny argued, pushing the door open.

As soon as Hermione crossed the threshold into the shop she was aware of even more stares. Silence quickly fell throughout the store as adults turned to look at the supposed third of the threesome, while the children imitated their parents, but not quite understanding why.

"I told you this was a bad-" Hermione started to hiss at Ginny under her breath, but was cut off by an explosion coming from the back room.

With one glance at each other, the two girls pushed their way through the hourdes of customers hurriedly. Ginny yanked the door open, and out billowed a thick cloud of black smoke. Coughing, Hermione banished it, and out came a spluttering and blackened Fred.

"God, that stuff tastes disgusting! Ginny! Hermione! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Ginny wants some prank items for school," Hermione rolled her eyes, "are you OK, Fred?"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm fine." He coughed once more.

"Hmm," Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically, and proceeded to drag him upstairs, Hermione following just behind.

Reaching upstairs they found George standing in the kitchen, tucking into a bowl of cereal.

"George, get downstairs and cover the till, like you should be doing anyway!" shouted out Ginny, as she sat Fred on a bar stool around the kitchen top, and starting fussing over him.

"For God's sake, Ginny! Get off!" Fred protested.

Ginny ignored him, as was her wont. "Right, it seems to be just soot, so we'll clean you up."

Hermione took advantage of their argument to slip out of the flat and back down to the shop. Heading to the till, she laughed to see George, standing there, still eating his cereal.

"George, you do realise that it's basically lunch-time, right?"

"What? Oh, yeah, 'course I do." He promptly returned to his bowl of cereal.

"How did things go with Angelina?" Hermione asked.

"They went OK actually. She gets _The Daily Prophet_ delivered every day, but I managed to catch her before she read it. She remembers how much trouble Skeeter caused for Harry all that time ago, so she has no problem with us trying to sink her. She insisted that it can't go on too long, though, but I think the three of us feel the same."

Hermione nodded her agreement. The sooner the whole infernal thing was over, the better.

"Hermione," George started. "How do you feel about Ron and Luna?"

"How do you mean?" she asked. "I'm happy for them, and the fact they've found each other."

"Oh, OK. It's just that Fred mentioned you seemed kind of sad when you two were talking about them earlier."

"What? Oh, I remember. I wasn't upset about the specific couple, but they're so happy together. I just sometimes wish I could have something like that."

"What, a guy?"

"Yeah. Someone who really gets me, somebody who cares about me and can cope with my quirks. Someone I can envisage happily waking up to every morning. Is that really too much to ask for, George?"

"No, Hermione, it's not. And I'm sure you'll find someone. Who knows, he may be the very next guy to talk to, after me."

"Maybe..." Hermione sounded doubtful, but their conversation was halted by the arrive of Verity.

"Hello, Mr Weasley," she greeted George.

"Ah, hello, Verity. Would you mind taking control taking control of the till? Hermione and I are just heading upstairs to rescue Fred from Ginny."

With these words, George and Hermione headed upstairs. Upon entering the kitchen they found Fred brandishing his wand at Ginny.

"For the last time, Ginny, stop fussing!" He caught sight of the two newcomers. "Thank Merlin – my saviours!"

Both George and Hermione burst into laughter at the scene. Hermione walked up to Fred, so close they were almost nose to nose, and scanned his face intently.

"You're fine."

"Thank you, Hermione," he turned to his sister, "you see, what did I tell you?"

Ginny pouted. "Well, sorry for worrying, Frederick."

"Anyway, Ginny, have you finished your shopping yet?" asked George, sharing a look with his twin.

"Mostly, why?"

"Because, oh sister of mine, we," Fred gestured between him and George, whilst throwing an arm around Ginny's shoulders, "want to steal Hermione away from you and get her to help with our product. That is, if it's OK with Hermione," he turned and looked enquiringly at the witch, who nodded her head.

"It's alright with me, Fred."

"Good. Right, shall we head downstairs? This potion could take hours to perfect."

The four of them traipsed downstairs. Ginny left the shop, deciding to go find Harry at work to try and persuade him to take a break from hunting evil wizards; after all, "he's been doing it for years, he should be allowed time off to hang around with his girlfriend while she's off school."

Hermione and the twins then headed into the back room, George pausing to hang something on the outside of the door and, once inside, locking it. Meeting Hermione's enquiring gaze, he answered her unspoken question.

"We're handling raw ingredients that could be dangerous to the little kids. This prevents them getting in here and interfering with the ingredients or getting under our feet, putting them, and us, at risk."

Hermione nodded and turned her attention to the recipe that Fred was already studying, trying to work out where he went wrong last time, their hips banging together as they both studied the small book intently.

"And leave to cool for twenty-four hours," Hermione said, reading the last instruction with relish.

Fred sighed with relief and leaned back against the counter, running his hands through his already rumpled hair once more.

"Thanks, Hermione. Couldn't have done it without you."

"It's fine, Fred. Glad I could help."

"Hermione, to thank you, we're taking you out for a drink, and dinner," George said. "And no, you have absolutely no say in the matter."

"I wasn't going to argue!" Hermione laughed, heading over to the door and unlocking it. Stepping out into the shop, with the twins just behind her, she was struck, once again, by just how silent it had fallen.

Glancing back the twins, she quickly took in their appearances through another's eyes. It wouldn't take a huge leap of the imagination to think they'd spent the last few hours having sex, what with their mussed hair. She could only wonder what she looked like.

"I'll be with you in one minute, guys," she said, turning to head upstairs. "My hair must look a frightful mess." And she dashed upstairs, leaving Fred and George to shut up shop and deal with all the stares.

They'd just sat down in the new restaurant/bar in Diagon Alley, _Charm_, when a very familiar face approached them, bearing notepad and quill.

"So, you've decided to venture out in public? May I ask you some questions? My readers are very keen to know about the more intimate aspects of your relationship."

"Shove off, Skeeter. You're not wanted here!" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you learn your lesson four years ago?"

"Oh, but Hermione, dear," her voice was sickly sweet. "I'm only supplying a demand. And there certainly is a thirst for gossip about your relationship. And it will only increase when I reveal all about the arguments between you three. You certainly had your differences during Hogwarts, didn't you?"

Fred suddenly snapped. He stood up and loomed over Rita. "Take the hint! You're not wanted here! You made Hermione's life hell four years ago, and now you're trying to do it again? For God's sake, _leave us alone_, you cow!"

Rita looked quite put out to be addressed so, and pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Fine then, I'll leave you three alone." Gathering up her stuff, she stalked to the door and left, not looking back.

"Right. Now she's out of the way, what do you want to eat and drink, Hermione?"

"A large glass of red wine, please, if they do Muggle drinks. God knows I need it, after her. As for food, what do you recommend?"

"The fish and chips," George said immediately as Fred sat back down. "Your usual, Fred?"

"Please," Fred answered as Georg placed their order with a passing waiter.

Soon the waiter reappeared, bearing Hermione's glass of wine and two Muggle beers, as well as three plates of food; two fish and chips for George and Hermione, and a lasagne for Fred.

"So, Hermione, see any guys you think you could wake up to every morning?" asked George, grinning at the brunette from over the top of his glass.

"Hmm," Hermione pondered, glancing around the restaurant, "I quite like the look of that red-head over there," she indicated who she was talking about with a quick gesture of her hand.

"Have a thing for gingers then?" George asked, perfectly straight-faced.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" teased Hermione, taking a sip of her wine.

"Am I missing something here?" questioned Fred, confused and bemused.

"We were talking about her reaction to Ron and Luna earlier," George explained. "Hermione told me that she wanted what they had, someone to, in her words, 'wake up to every morning'."

"Right...so, thinking about settling down, Granger?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, _Hermione_."

"I don't know. I know that one day I want to have a family and stuff, but there doesn't seem to be a wizard or Muggle who I could happily settle down with."

"I'm sure someone will come along and sweep you off your feet, Hermione," assured George.

"And when he does, I'm sure you'll make a great mum," Fred smiled gently at her, letting a slight chuckle escape his lips as a blush lit up her cheeks.

They sat there for another or so, just chatting, sipping their drinks and enjoying their food. Hermione glanced at her watch. "I really should be going, guys, I'm sorry but I've got work tomorrow."

"That's fine. I'll grab the bill." George gestured to the waiter who had served them earlier, who nodded and hurried off.

Hermione started to shrug her jacket on as the waiter came back and was given a handful of Galleons by George.

"I'll Apparate you home, if you want," offered Fred.

"No, it's fine. I've not had that much to drink and I'm sure you want to be getting home as well. Thanks for the offer, though, and the dinner," she embraced both of them, and Apparated away.

"Well, Freddie, we should probably get going as well then."

He received no response, so tried again. "Fred?"

"Huh, what?"

"Did you hear a word of what I just said?"

"No, sorry."

George sighed. "I _said_, we should be going as well."

Fred nodded once and the two of them Apparated away, back to their flat.

**Well? What do you think?**

**So, the plot develops, with Skeeter getting involved.**

**I love writing George, smiling and joking and easy, and utterly lovely. That's not to say I don't love writing Fred as well, but he's at a different level to George - especially in this fic. **

**Please review, it would make me so happy!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. My laptop went away for mending, so I haven't been able to upload or anything.**

**Please forgive me, and read and review.**

**Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Fred Weasley aren't mine.**

Hermione was awoken from her sleep by an incessant tapping on her bedroom window. Opening her eyes, she got out of bed and pulled her purse out of her handbag on the way to the window. Pulling the curtains back, she let in the owl, removing the newspaper from its grip and depositing a couple of knuts into the pouch attached to it's leg.

As the owl flew away, Hermione headed through to the kitchen and made herself a mug of tea as she unfolded the newspaper. Suddenly she stopped all movement as she caught sight of the headline 'Threesome Plans For Future'. Shakily, she set her mug down as she scanned the first few sentences of the article.

'_It seems that Hermione Granger and the Weasley twins are planning for the future, reports Rita Skeeter. The Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal that children seem to be on the horizon for this threesome.'_

Hermione frowned; she'd done it again, and gotten away with it. Realising that Fred and George needed to be told, as she doubted they had surfaced yet, she quickly hurried to her bedroom and threw on her work robes. Grabbing her wand she Apparated directly to their flat – only to be greeted by the sight of Fred coming out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel.

"Oh, Fred, I-" she broke off, flushing.

"Well, hello, Granger. I presume you're here for the same reason as Angelina," she nodded towards the kitchen, where the low murmur of voices could be heard.

"If she's here about the newspaper article, yes, if not, no."

Fred nodded. "Head straight through, I'll be with you in just one minute." Saying this he headed into what Hermione guessed was his bedroom. Following his advice, she headed into the kitchen, where both Angelina and George glanced up as they heard her come through the doorway.

"Hey..." she trailed off, not sure of her reception. Although Fred had been perfectly friendly and natural, despite wearing nothing but a towel, Fred was, well, Fred. He was single, had been since before the war, even though Hermione knew, thanks to Ginny, that several girls a month asked him out. Apparently he refused them all, however, no one knew why.

Hermione could understand why so many girls asked him out – she had just had a clear view of the wonders Quidditch had bestowed on his body. She couldn't understand why Fred refused them all, though, he never gave any of them a chance.

George, however, George was dating Angelina, and Hermione hated to think what this whole debacle was doing to their relationship.

"Hey, Hermione, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join us?" asked George.

Hermione flushed and walked over to the table, taking a seat opposite George and Angelina.

"Angelina, I'm sorry about all this," Hermione apologised.

Angelina laughed. "What are you apologising for? I'm pleased someone is trying to do something about Skeeter – she's horrid. And as for the articles, I know they're not true, and that's all that matters."

Hermione smiled gratefully at the older girl.

"So, you've seen the latest article then, Granger?" asked Fred, coming to the room and sitting himself next to her.

Hermione frowned. "Yes, I have. I just can't believe we didn't catch her, after all, we knew she'd been there," she dropped her head into her hands in despair.

"Hermione, we will catch her," Fred assured her.

"We better," she sighed, before glancing at the clock on the wall. "Shoot, I've got to go, I'm late for work. Can I use your Floo?"

"Sure," Fred and George smiled.

She got up and hurried to the fireplace. "See you guys later, yeah?" and she Flooed away.

* * *

An hour and a half later Hermione would have quite happily either murdered the entire Ministry, or herself. Currently, as yet another witch bombarded her with questions, it was definitely the former. Ever since she had arrived at work, Hermione had hardly had a minute when she wasn't being asked about her 'relationship'. Her job was hectic enough at the best of times, trying to repair the fractured relationships between wizards and magical creatures. She'd had to start working on the weekends as well, in an attempt to reduce the workload. Now, after taking two days off, the backlog was huge. The last think she needed right now was pointless questions from shallow witches, yet that was exactly what she was getting.

"So...what do they look like? Are they both the same...you know...down there?" a witch giggled.

Hermione gritted her teeth and tried to block the woman out. She wasn't to be deterred though.

"Where's the kinkiest place you've done it? Have you ever nearly been caught?"

Throwing down her quill, causing large pools of ink to appear on the parchment, Hermione stood up, seething.

"Leave me alone! I've got enough on my plate without you asking irritating, pointless questions that I have no intention of answering!"

The witch paled. "I was just-"

But Hermione cut her off. "I don't care! I have had enough of silly girls with nothing between their ears, and who have nothing better to do with their time than to gossip about things that don't concern them!"

Angrily, Hermione swept her quill, parchment and closed ink pot into her bag, shoving it onto her shoulder with a lot more force than was strictly necessary, and storming from her office. As she headed to the fireplaces in the Atrium, people jumped out of her way, staring in curiousity as she passed them. Stepping into the Floo, she closed her eyes and, the next second, she was home.

Sighing heavily, she sat down on the sofa. That reaction...goodness only knows how much gossiping and speculation that outburst would cause. Without a doubt it would end up in _The Daily Prophet_. That thought made her even more incensed, and she settled herself amongst the cushions, thumping them angrily.

* * *

Fred emerged from the testing room, wiping his hand across his forehead, leaving a sooty streak behind. He'd been locked in there for six hours, ever since Hermione had left the flat. He was glad of the break. Walking into the shop, he headed over to the till, where Verity was stationed, deep in conversation with someone. Fred stopped just round the corner, out of sight, and listened. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop but he had heard a certain name and was curious to see where the conversation led.

"She just picked up her stuff, apparently, and stormed out, but only after screaming at poor Kathy."

"Really? Wow. She was here yesterday, with the twins, and she seemed OK then."

"Well, obviously that's changed. I wouldn't wonder if she's completely snapped. What she was thinking, getting involved with the twins, I have no idea. She'd need much more experience to handle them properly. Honestly, they can't be getting any pleasure from her. I don't know why they don't just ditch her and find someone else. Who cares if she's Harry Potter's best friend and considered the brightest witch her age – that doesn't make her any good in bed. They need someone who would be able to please them."

"Tell me about it," Verity agreed. "It's not as if they'd be short of offers, so many girls come in here, hoping for a date."

Fred had heard enough. He stepped out from around the corner. "George and I pay you to work Verity, not to gossip."

Verity and her friend flushed, sending guilty looks at each other that Fred pretended not to notice.

"I'm going out, Verity. You're in charge until George gets back. Take care of the customers and don't spend the whole time gossiping about nothing."

The girl nodded as Fred left the shop and headed into Diagon Alley.

* * *

Weaving his way through the teaming crowds, Fred headed to Hermione's flat, desperate to check on her after hearing about what had happened in her office.

Knocking on the door of her apartment, Fred shifted from foot to foot, unsure of his reception. When the door swung open, he scanned Hermione's face as she invited him in. They sat down on the sofa together before Fred began to speak.

"Hey, Hermione, I – er – heard about what happened...are you OK?"

"OK? OK? I'm sick to death of this. Doesn't anyone have anything better to do than gossip about untrue rumours? No one can take no for an answer! God, I swear those I work with are getting thicker and thicker. How many times does someone have to say 'go away before I hex you into oblivion' before they get the message?"

Fred, not saying a word, got up and left the room. Hermione stared after him, wondering where he'd gone. In a couple of minutes, though, he was back, carrying a mug of hot tea.

"Complete with honey," he told her, passing the mug over.

Hermione stared at him in astonishment. "You remembered..."

"'Course I did, Hermione. I do pay attention to what you say." He sat down on the sofa next to her, smiling as she took a sip of her drink and sighed appreciatively.

"It just got me so angry. Even if the articles had been true, how does anyone seriously think I would discuss it? I just want it to all be over, Fred. I know I was the one who suggested this whole stupid charade in the first place, but I just want it to be over."

"It will be soon, Hermione, I promise."

She nodded and took another sip of her tea.

"Fred...why are you single?"

"Why do you want to know? Want to try your luck?"

Hermione blushed scarlet. "No! I was just wondering. Apparently, according to Ginny, loads of girls regularly ask you out, but you always refuse. I was just curious as to why."

"Well, do you promise not to tell? No one but George knows, and he doesn't count."

"I promise."

"I like this girl. Really, really like her. She's funny and smart, and really, really beautiful."

"Does she know?" asked Hermione quietly.

"No...If she did...well, she doesn't feel the same way."

"How do you know?" Hermione searched his face with her eyes.

"Because I'm me. She could have any guy in the world, why would she choose me?" Fred sighed dejectedly.

"Frederick Gideon Weasley! How can you think that? You're intelligent, caring, brave and," Hermione grinned at him, "according to many girls, both throughout Hogwarts, and now, devastatingly handsome."

"Are you one of those girls?" asked Fred.

"As if I'd tell you if I was," Hermione said. "But seriously Fred, tell her how you feel. I'm sure she feels the same way, but you'll never know until you try."

Fred nodded. "Thanks Hermione. Do you mind if I go now then? I'll owl you tomorrow." He gave her a quick hug and Apparated away, leaving Hermione feeling oddly disappointed.

**So, what did you think? **

**I actually really like this story, I'm proud of it. Please tell me if you agree or disagree. It would mean such a lot.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for all the reviews. Please continue, and if, you haven't, please do. **

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

"George, come on, get up," Fred entered his twin's room.

"What..." George raised his head, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. "What the hell, Fred? It's only seven."

"We need to end this, now. It's got to finish. And I have an idea."

"Go on," George said, getting up and pulling on a t-shirt as Fred started to explain his idea.

For the second time in as many days, Hermione was awoken by an owl tapping on her bedroom window. Getting up, she picked up her purse and let the owl in. However, it just dropped off a letter and flew away. Setting her purse down on the windowsill, Hermione opened the letter and read the few short lines. Frowning in confusion, she threw her robes on and hurried into the bathroom to get ready.

* * *

Just ten minutes later she was shutting her front door and going down into Diagon Alley, heading to Fred and George's shop. Knocking on the door, she tapped her foot impatiently as George unlocked and let her in, opening the window above the door at the same time.

"So what was that owl about?" asked Hermione, glancing from one twin to the other. "It said basically nothing! 'Hermione, come over to the shop, we have something important to discuss. Don't Floo or Apparate.' What's so urgent that you couldn't wait? I swear you two never get up before seven anyway."

"We don't, _usually,_" George said, shooting a glare at Fred.

Fred shifted from foot to foot, glancing around the shop as though looking for something. Suddenly he stood up straighter, and elbowed George. They shared a silent conversation which left Hermione feeling confused and left out.

"Guys!" she exclaimed, drawing their attention back to them.

"Actually, Hermione," Fred started, running his hands through his hair which looked as if it hadn't yet seen a comb this morning. "Actually, it was just me who wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," Hermione said, biting her bottom lip.

"Um, I'll leave you to it," said George awkwardly, heading towards the back room and disappearing.

Fred took a step closer towards Hermione. "See, the thing is..."

"Yes?"

"The thing is...what I've got to tell you is..." he paused.

"Go on," Hermione smiled encouragingly.

"OK, I'll just say it-" Fred started.

"Got her!" George cried, appearing just next to them brandishing a glass jar.

Hermione jumped. "George! What the-?"

"Sorry, Hermione. It was Fred's idea. Get you over here early. We figured Skeeter would either be watching your flat or this place. Either way, she would see you arriving and want to know why. We had to have someone catching her, so the plan was to get her distracted by thinking you and Fred were about to have a deep and important conversation privately – who knows, she may be thinking that you wanted to ditch me. I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself, and catch her in an unbreakable jar."

"Wow," Hermione said. "So Fred actually had nothing to tell me?"

"No, I didn't. But I couldn't say something unimportant, in case she lost interest and disappeared. So I pretended that I had something important and slightly difficult to tell you – it was sure to grab her interest."

"It was a good idea. And it seems to have worked." Hermione admitted.

"So, shall we go to the Ministry? We need to report her, and you have work, or are you not going?"

Hermione sighed. "I need to go. The articles will stop, and the gossip will eventually die down. I'm meant to be Gryffindor – I survived Voldemort and the war, I can survive this. Also, there's too much to do for me to take yet another day off. In fact, who knows when I'll next be able to resurface."

Fred grinned. "We may be able to do something about those rumours," he said.

* * *

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" Kingsley asked Rita Skeeter who stood cowering beneath the glares of Fred, George and Hermione.

"I owe it to my readers to report-"

"Lies?" accused Fred. "You took a joke between two friends and twisted it to fit your own sick ideas."

"That'll do, Mr Weasley," said Kingsley. "Skeeter, you've been creating lies for years. Goodness only knows how many lives you've ruined. Added to that the fact that you're an unregistered Animagus, and I think we're looking at quite a lengthy stretch in Azkaban. You should feel grateful that we've removed the Dementors from their posts, otherwise your stay would be a lot worse."

"But it's my job," Skeeter complained.

"Your job is to report on happenings. Maybe irrelevant happenings between people, but not things that are in no way true. Your crime is so personal and so serious that it must be brought before the Wizenmagot without delay. I wish I could sentence you now, but the Ministry is more transparent now, and the public wouldn't stand for it. However, while you await trial, you will write an article documenting your lies, specifically your lies about the relationship between Fred, George and Hermione. Got it?"

Skeeter nodded, and an Auror who had been standing in the corner of the room led her away to the holding cells, clutching some parchment, a bottle of ink and a normal quill.

"Thank you, Kingsley," Hermione smiled, looking relieved.

"It's quite all right, Hermione," he assured her. "It was the least I could do. She's a foul woman, and even if she wasn't an unregistered Animagus I would still dearly love to put her on trial. Anyway, don't you three have jobs to go to?"

They all nodded, and bidding each other goodbye, headed in their different directions, Fred and George heading over to the fireplaces, and Hermione calling one of the lifts to take her to her office.

* * *

Hermione faced the day much happier, and didn't snap when people asked her questions about her 'relationship'. Knowing that Skeeter's lies would be revealed to the public by tomorrow morning worked wonders on her temper, and she managed to block out any potentially irritating comments and sign off a couple of pieces of legislation. However, her mind couldn't help wandering back to Fred, his mystery woman and the fact that she could have sworn he actually had wanted to tell her something earlier, but was prevented from doing so by George's presence. After all, she knew the twins well, they had grown closer since the war.

Fred gave another customer their change. Yesterday and the day before had seen him finish all developments for their current projects – and test some of them. Now he was bored. While the Skeeter nonsense had been going on, he could usually rely on Hermione appearing to alleviate said boredom. Now, though, he didn't know. And, apparently she had a tonne of work to get through. He'd be lucky to see her at The Burrow for Sunday lunch this weekend, from what he surmised. Apparently missing three days of work created a huge backlog that took days to clear, even as more work came flooding in. He sighed, and turned to the next customer, checking their items, and informing them that they owed "four Galleons, twelve Sickles and two Knuts" wearily.

**So, what did you think? Please tell me. It does really mean such a lot to me. **

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